Global Lords: Hundredfold Increments Starting With the Undead - Chapter 321 - 315, Cunning Gambler_1

Rude is a tank, known as the strongest in history. However, the Hero decided that his skills were worthless because he couldn’t do anything but take damage, and threw him out of the party. His cleric friend who trusted him followed him to the remote village that Rude was forced to return to.

To [Player]: This is the mystery of life, the journey of all things.You will become stronger, transform into superheroes, and possibly even touch the power of divinity. However, if you fail, death awaits you.For you have already stepped into the highest Sequence of the Evolution Game!“Isn't this making things difficult for Darwin?” Li Changhe muttered as he watched the [Player] arriving in the distance: “And giving Newton a hard time as well.”Fervent passion flows, don't spread hate if you dislike it

Chen Chao dreamt of becoming a powerful immortal cultivator, flying on his sword and vanquishing enemies with daoist magic. His hopes were dashed when he discovered that he had absolutely no talent for immortal cultivation.

Refusing to submit to his fate, Chen Chao joined the ranks of countless other talentless martial artists and embarked on the path of martial cultivation, a path scorned by the immortal cultivators.

In this era of strife where martial cultivators, immortal cultivators, and demonic cultivators wrestled for hegemony, Chen Chao will either rise to the top or fall into eternal damnation.

What happens when, in the midst of struggling to keep up with life, you suddenly discover that you were a princess in a past life? Now, you're just a waitress with a drunken mother and a pile of bills to pay. But deep down, you know one thing: you’ll find the stupid jerk responsible for ending your royal life, no matter what it takes.Alexia POV:Then there are the spoiled, narcissistic rich jerks who think their daddy's car gives them a free pass to treat women like objects. Not today, Satan. These guys are like walking perfume ads with egos bigger than their bank accounts. I swear, they should just marry themselves—they're clearly their own type.When one of those jerks lands at my table, I can smell the entitlement from a mile away. I don't even wait for the inevitable sleazy pickup line or the “accidental” brush of their hand against mine. Nope. I pawn them off on one of the other waiters faster than you can say “unpaid rent.”